A beam phases through a window, Hikari's warmth enveloping Justice's face. As his vision adjusts to the light, he flips his head to find out where he lies.

Eileen leans over him. "Awake yet?"

"Yeah..." He pulls himself up, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we?"

"The minotaurs gave us a room at one of the nicer inns, which is gracious considering our performance." She grins.

Memories of the fight flush into his mind up to the impact with the hulking Goliath. "No kidding." Gavriil sulks in the room's corner, head hanging low. Filib drinks tea by the door, somehow always accustomed to everywhere they go.

"I'm sorry..." Justice says. "My performance yesterday... left much to be desired."

"What are you talking about? You did well for someone in that situation," Eileen responds. "I don't think most expected you to defeat that behemoth with only a rapier and some sand."

Filib takes a sip from his tea. "Not to mention as someone who lacks both a blessing and experience with minotaurs."

"But I could've done something, all I did was faint."

"What are you talking about?" Eileen asks, dropping back into her chair. "You got some solid hits in."

"I don't think he realizes that," Filib says. "Instinct drove him, a very common reaction to fighting creatures of that scale."

"Instinct?"

"His attacks did seem more wild than usual..." Eileen says.

"We're getting off-topic." Justice shakes his head. "I messed up, and as the leader, I'll take responsibility for the failure of our mission."

"Such a noble act," Filib says, a smile curving.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously."

There's a knock on the door. The moping cyclops peers out the window. "Minotaur guards."

"It seems time's up." Filib finishes his tea.

"Wait, have long was I unconscious."

"About a day."

"We're out of time already?"

"It appears so."

There goes his plan to gather Intel... but he'll go with it in stride, just as Ambrosio always taught.

"Let's see what they want."

Filib opens the door.

A minotaur, wearing a thick helmet, fitted around his horns, waits outside. Seeing all party members are present, he says, "the king has requested your group reports to the throne room."

Justice's three comrades look to him.

"Can I ask what for?" He asks.

"We weren't told to give you that information. You'll find out when you arrive."

"Very well. Thank you for the message."

"I just do as I am told." The guard waits for a second, then continues. "Follow me, you may bring your weapons, but there are no requirements." He stays at the door, growing impatient.

Oh, they're going now.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

What is the reason for the request? It seems odd they would force them out so quickly unless they did something to upset them. Maybe Gavriil... Eileen walks by his side, trying her best to cheer up the slouching cyclops. That isn't it.

They failed the test, so he finds the chance of them making an expected talk with the king unlikely. Hopefully, they didn't offend him.

But even if they passed the test, Justice is unsure of how he'd convince Redmane to join with them.

Oh well, that doesn't matter. He should gather all he can on the city.

Justice examines his surroundings as they march past markets and residential areas where minotaurs converse and trade the many resources they collect. Poverty seems to be nonexistent, or at least a small enough minority to be practically invisible.

They reach the gate, tall and wide, fitting for the goliath-esque men. The guard nods to the minotaurs at the gate who open the towering doors with minuscule effort. The group passes through, entering the centerpiece of the castle which seems to pierce the clouds, watching over the fertile land below.

They climb the stairs for what seems forever, not helped by the unceasing tension of what the king desires. They arrive at a wide room where the king's throne lies. A table sits in the middle and the king's seat over the arena connects from outside.

Redmane stares at a statue of King Grayhorn raising his mighty axe skyward. "Welcome. I hope your rest was fair?"

"It was. Thank you for your hospitality," Justice says.

"That's what I aim for." Redmane waves to the table. "Come, sit."

Justice nods, sitting as he's told. "I in no way mean to rush, but may I ask why you brought us here? We failed to pass your test."

"Oh, that?" The king's voice rumbles in laughter. "The test was a lie. My soldiers get restless in our peaceful times, and there aren't many who would dare face us in battle without reason, so I fabricated the myth to give relief to my men."

"But the past few officers who returned from here said it was true."

"You men of the light are proud, I knew since I created the myth that none of you would let it known they failed in both combat and diplomacy."

That is true, sadly Justice knows many colleagues who would risk being terminated from the army for deception over openly stating they failed.

"But out of all the men Ambrosio has sent, your group interests me the most," Redmane glancing over the group of four.

"Why is that?" Justice asks. "I feel we did rather poorly."

"Everyone has, but you're the first they sent that lacks a god's blessing, which in the ends seems to have made you perform much better than the past overconfident light officers. You even got a few cuts in on Greenhoove, our arena champion."

He did? He doesn't know how not having a blessing would benefit him, but he plays along, giving a gracious smile. "Thank you for your kind words."

Redmane waves the thanks away. "No need, the only offer of thanks I wait for shall come soon."

"And what would that be."

"To see how you fair in changing my mind." The king interlocks his hand, showing no sign of weakness.

Redmane seems to grow taller than even the green behemoth Justice fought two days prior, the minotaur's golden eyes bursting through his flowing red strands and piercing into Justice's soul.

Silence chokes the captain's throat. Every idea of how to convince Redmane he thought of on his way here is dismantled by merely seeing how his people seem to not need anything they can't satisfy on their own.

"So... why should I join the alliance?"

"Well..." Justice thinks back to Ambrosio's teachings. "A nation no matter how strong they may be at the moment will eventually need another to support them. The light alliance has been a vital part of keeping many kingdoms from collapsing."

"When I reach that point I will come to you, that time is quite distant for us minotaur."

"Starting even a temporary alliance would place you in a much better position with the light for when you reach that point. Failing to be ready for anything has ended many powerful races as yourself."

"And do you believe an alliance with the light won't halt our progress or even bring our end faster?"

Justice's pitch raises, but he corrects it quickly. "The light has brought many kingdoms on the brink of destruction to prosperity. Think about how much we could do for you."

"You forget my people were part of your alliance. At first, it seemed a smart idea to join, it granted us protection from those who hunted our kind, those who saw us more bull than man, but after time as Grayhorn became monarch, he realized what the light did to those they saw as different. Do you think your people will support an alliance with us, monsters of men?" The king asks, his voice of thunder making it difficult to stay unshaken.

"If Holy commander Ambrosio talks to them, I'm sure of it. Men with traits of animals are holy creatures, once Ambrosio explains that the people will willingly go along with it."

Redmane is unswayed. "Do you know how the light treats those of other races than your own? Especially in the army, you're so proud of?"

"What do you mean?"

He turns to his cyclops, "Gavriil, was it? You seem like you've been a soldier for a while, quite strong, almost beat one of my best soldiers. What is your rank?"

"Second lieutenant..." Gavriil mumbles, his gloomy mood worsening.

"Why with all your time in the army would you be lower than him, someone relatively new."

Justice interrupts. "I only became captain because my training was most relevant for our mission."

"I didn't ask you."

"I... I wasn't promoted for a reason," Gavriil says. "I lost my fight because I didn't think it through. I'm just not tactically minded"

"And there aren't any thick-headed light officers?"

Gavriil tries to respond but fails.

"And you," Redmane turns to Filib, "I saw how you strategized for your comrades, you are more experienced in combat and the ways of the lands than he. How are you stuck under him after all of your years?"

"My 'experience' taught me what to strive for. I know my place and I've accepted it."

What does he mean? Accepted what?

"So you accept your kind's use in the front line as disposable units, never allowed to further their people past what the light finds tolerable. Being held back from being a free kingdom, held back from the luxury of those of the light."

"Not all light citizens live in luxury," Eileen says. "My people live humble lives, but we are light just as those in palaces."

Redmane turns his golden gaze to her. "Do you worry that when you find your village plundered or pillaged that the light won't come to support you?"

She thinks for a second. "No..."

"That is your luxury." He stares at Filib. "I won't let my people be trapped in a prison, no matter how pretty the cell may seem."

Justice stares blankly at the red-furred minotaur firm in his stance, his bull-headed stubbornness placed firm on his well-structured arguments. His personality, just under Viktor's, is the most difficult for Justice to deal with. He knows what he wants, and it takes a miracle to change that. Seconds, feeling like hours, go by while the captain thinks of a rebuttal, or a new point, or… at least something.

It seems useless.

He turns to his men. Eileen smiles at him and Filib nods, a way of showing encouragement according to him, and even Gavriil shows signs of support. Though only through slight changes of the face, it meant a lot.

The gods have given Justice a chance to accomplish great things for his people, he won't let it go to waste. "There's one element I believe your forgetting."

Redmane seems surprised by Justice's revival. "And what would that be?"

"The shades. Everyone knows war is coming, and soon. We may outnumber the mistress's armies, but that means nothing to her ever-growing army of shades. Unlike the light, she has no sense of morality to restrain her from asking for support from barbaric tribes and demonic beasts. And her magic is still foreign to us despite her surviving multiple centuries."

"I don't fear her magic. Magic has no use on a minotaur since the death of Grayhorn."

He heard rumors of the magic-resistant hides of the minotaur, but hearing it from the honest king still surprises Justice, nevertheless, he continues unflustered.

"You can fake your confidence now, but I know she can break the spirit of your men. She can manipulate and lie with unnatural ease, bending the hearts of good men to her cause. I've seen the mental torment even a brief visit of hers can do to people, Eileen has felt it. She is a threat that nears that of the shamans, only getting closer by the day."

Redmane's confident demeanor trembles at the mention of the shamans, despite his apparent attempts to resist it.

Finally, a weak point.

"But the thing that worries me most is how she seeks to release the god of madness."

Redmane's turn for silence comes, his face turning grim. "Is that true?"

"It is." A bluff, but a well-supported one.

Redmane sighs. "Then it seems I have no choice."

"So, you agree to the alliance?" Justice grins.

"A temporary one, and one I will overview the rules of." The king reaches out his hand. "Deal?"

That's the best they're going to get.

"Deal."

The group cheers silently to their victory as Justice goes over with the king on how to continue from there.

"You'll get a letter a few days from now stating the alliance agreements. You may adjust them as you see fit, then we'll legalize it once both sides are happy."

"Very well." Redmane nods. "Is that all?"

"I believe so."

Redmane returns in front of the previous monarch's statue. "Will you be staying?"

"I think we might stay for a..."

A knock at the door interrupts. They swing open, a guard declaring, "a visitor, by the name of Major Alastair, has asked for Justice to report at once outside the gates."

Oh. Him.

Justice sighs. "I apologize, but we must leave. It seems something urgent has come up."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They close in on a light camp set up miles away from the city, Alastair's men talking amongst themselves. The group seems to have thinned since he last saw them. Were they raided?

Garvey watches them as they approach, sitting by a fire with a leg of meat in hand. A fresh scar lies across his chest, one caused by what seems a vicious axe. His stare holds an undisguised contempt, the fellow captain not moving an inch to greet them.

Gavriil, in a raised mood since their success, returns the glare with a cocky smirk.

Garvey rolls his eyes, spitting on the ground.

Alastair exits his tent as they arrive, greeting them oddly unslowed by the "hospitality" he claims to have mastered. He seems rushed, not even hiding his usual jabs at Justice. "I hope I haven't interrupted your failing of that useless mission, but something important has come up."

"We succeeded with our 'failure' of a mission, but continue."

Eileen shows the seal of Redmane, quick to pick up the distaste for Alastair.

Alastair's eye twitches for a second, but he pretends to ignore the response. "they breached the west border."

"Wait, how?" Justice asks, his confident tone gone.

"Who?" Filib adds.

"We still don't know how, but, for who..." His voice fills with spite. "It's the damn sea men."